have the figgerhead of the
old _Susan Gatskill_ sittin' by our kitchen stove as to have that
useless critter about. She ain't no good to Prudence and me--not at
all!"

CHAPTER XXIX

ON THE TRAIL

There was but a single idea in Sheila Macklin's mind when she left
those three people in the kitchen and mounted to her room. Indeed,
there was scarcely left to the sadly distracted girl another sane
thought.

She must leave the house before she could be further questioned. She
hoped that she had said enough to exonerate Tunis. If she said more,
it might be to raise some doubt in the minds of Cap'n Ira and
Prudence as to Tunis' ignorance of her true reputation. She must
escape any cross-examination--on that or any other topic.

She believed that the captain of the _Seamew_ possessed sufficient
caution to keep secret the particulars of their first meeting until
he had heard from the old people the few false details she had left
in their minds. She had done all she could to make Tunis' reputation
secure in the eyes of those who must know any particulars of his
connection with her. She had kept her vow to the dead woman whom the
young shipmaster had, throughout his life, so revered--his mother.

She did not light her bedroom lamp until she knew by the sounds from
below that the family had retired for the night. Then, stepping
softly, she went over her small possessions and made a bundle of
those which she had brought with her when she came from Boston. The
articles of apparel purchased with money given her by the Balls she
left in the closet or in the bureau drawers.

This done, she did not lie down on the bed, but sat by the north
window staring out into the starlit dark. There was no lamp to watch
in the window of Latham's Folly to-night. Tunis was far away. Had
she been prepared for this unexpected catastrophe, she would have
been far, far away from Wreckers' Head before Tunis returned.

As it chanced, she possessed very little money--scarcely more than
enough to take her to Paulmouth. There she would be no better off
than she was at Big Wreck Cove. Sheila was not, in truth, quite
accountable for her actions at this time. To get away from the Ball
house was her only really clear thought. What followed must fall as
fate directed.

At the first faint gleam of dawn in the sky, and as the distant
stars paled and disappeared, the girl crept down the stairs with
her bundle, her shoes in her hand, and went out by